Soulful Encounter

It was the fourth of July, and throughout the day were heard the pops and bangs that meant the avid celebrators were warming up for the evening's inevitable fireworks orgy. I live between the two main areas where it happens. 

I was a bit on edge, but braved an afternoon visit to the Inner Harbor Park with the little dog. The park was mercifully deserted (people were claiming their spots on the local beaches), so Lumen and I could happily make our way along the paths and pier. We saw three woodpeckers cavorting wildly over our heads, and both of us stopped to stare with wonder at their up close beauty. We also saw the two gray squirrels with their surprising auburn tails. When we got to the pier, we encountered not one but two young night herons. And oh, my longing for my better camera was intense. I didn't even try with the point and shoot. Not with Lumen's enthusiasm pulling me toward the birds... A little sinking of the heart, but a little rising of determination to return... So after confining the dear little pup to his crate with a peanut butter-filled Kong, I returned to the park with the Sony A-6000, complete with zoom lens.

The woodpeckers were gone, as were the squirrels. But the light was even better; sun was lowered just enough to highlight without blowout. Just one curious little heron greeted my approach to the pier. Without the dog, enthusiasm was a secret thing. My breathing slowed, my dancer's feet were sensitive and quiet upon the boards. And the heron watched until my presence was a trusted part of the evening's dance. And my love... For I adored his every move. Flirtatious glances charmed me and my camera was responsive to his playful leading. And he did lead, suddenly flying a yard or two to perch on a different section of the pier, or standing very still to peer into the water below. By this time I was on the grassy bank which runs along the pier, moving quickly, slowly, or standing still as still. Soon he descended to creep delicately from rock to rock. The water beckoned him, the marshes half concealing the wading bird, as gradually we made our way back to our beginning. 

I have had these photos ready for posting for quite some time. Daily I have sought to choose just two or three. It has seemed impossible. Impossible, too, to find the time when I could almost forget the pulling presence of little Lumen. Other distractions have been many also. So very difficult to return to the perfect moments when my soul found refuge in the freedom yielded by the little bird. So impossible to choose the perfect photos to express the wonder. And the story... 

Right now Lumen lingers in the crate a little too long, though quietly. I can't help being aware. So I must bumble through the choosing, hoping that a little of the essence of the moment can be shared. I think I care too much.

Too many extras, and too few... So hard to leave some out... And then to include...not a favorite...but one that tells how the fourth intruded just a little, and in rather a humorous way, before I left the park.